


where good affections grow

by shell-heads (chocopies)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, its the ABCD's of stony fluff: adoption babies cuddling and domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-23 04:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17073152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocopies/pseuds/shell-heads
Summary: On nights when he can't sleep, dogged down by greyscale memories or intricate plans, Tony slips into orphanages and holds babies in their sleep. He doesn't talk about it, and very few know at all, but when he leaves bed to head out for the first time in his new, wonderful relationship with Steve, he doesn't expect Steve to come along.He panics at first, because this is something he can't talk about, something he's never been able to share with anyone before, but Steve holds his hand and smiles at him like all the stars are in Tony's eyes, and when he says, "I love you," well-Tony can't help but think Steve could be yet another exception to one of his rules.So he goes, and Steve comes with him, and like everything they do together, it's twice as good as anything they do alone.





	where good affections grow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).



> my gift for the cap/im holiday exchange for the fantastic laireshi!!! 💖

It’s two months into their beautiful, new relationship when Steve wakes up to Tony slipping out of the bed quietly, his face shadowed and weary.

Puzzled, Steve watches as Tony slips out of the bed and into the closet, a dim light peeking through underneath the door and leaving him blinking slowly. He’s used to Tony leaving bed because of nightmares, and he knows he can’t help them all-some things just don’t leave, no matter what-but…

But Tony always wakes him up first to let him know. Their very first night in bed together, he’d promised that he’d wake Steve up if he felt badly enough to want to leave bed if Steve promised to do the same, and Steve had linked their pinkies like they were little kids to make Tony laugh, because he’d have done anything to wipe away the thin wash of fear that had come over his soft face in the harsh lights outside their window; now, he pulls himself up and rubs at his eyes to dispel the sleepy haze surrounding them, the blanket falling down to his hips as Tony steps out of the closet in a cotton t-shirt and pajama pants instead of his normal shirt-and-briefs sleepwear.

“Tony?” Steve yawns, feeling something warm curl in his chest as Tony automatically turns to him and goes loose with affection, his smile tired but warm as he sits on the edge of the bed and curls a hand around Steve’s cheek, leaning their foreheads against each other.

“Hey,” Tony murmurs quietly, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple and leaning back, his thumb stroking a star-studded line across his cheekbone. “Sorry, I meant to wake you up in a couple minutes.”

“It’s okay,” Steve mumbles, pulling Tony by his palm to press his own kiss against the pad of his thumb. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” Tony tells him wryly, too exhausted for Steve not to lean in and nuzzle him, arms slipping around his waist to hug him. “I’m-I’m planning on heading out for a little bit, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is,” Steve says, drawing himself out of their slack embrace, “just give me a minute to get dressed.”

“That’s-you don’t have to,” Tony tries, panic flitting over his face impossibly quick as he tries to stop Steve with a hand on his arm. “I can go by myself, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve acknowledges, his smile sleep-stained and quietly adoring. “But I love you, and I want to keep you company.”

Tony hiccups a startled breath while the tension in his shoulders evaporates like mist, his face transforming into that same look of wild awe and overwhelming joy he'd had that first time Steve said, “I love you,” and it makes Steve’s heart ache so dearly that he leans in and kisses him, once, twice-three times, honey-colored and sweet.

“Come on, Shellhead,” he grins, bright as the stars above and twice as dazzling, “I'd never leave my best man hanging.”

Laughing quietly, Tony strokes his head and smiles hopelessly back, pressing a kiss of his own to Steve’s brow before releasing to let him grab a jacket and switch into a different pair of pants. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Steve says, tying the laces on his shoes and bringing over a pair for Tony, kneeling down in front of him and lifting his legs to fit them on.

“It might not-it might change how you think of me,” Tony swallows, fingers tapping a rapid beat against his legs when Steve finishes and looks up at him from the floor expectantly. “I’ve never...showed anyone. Not on purpose, anyways.”

“Okay,” Steve nods, his face wide open as he takes Tony’s hands into his and settles them on top of his trembling lap.

“And I don’t know if I can talk about it,” Tony rushes, pulse hammering wildly, “but it’s not because I don’t trust you, but more because it’s hard for me to say properly.”

“Okay,” Steve repeats, squeezing Tony’s hands gently.

Blinking quickly, disarmed and overwhelmed at his acceptance, Tony takes a deep breath before squeezing back, lashes suspiciously wet.

“Whatever you need, my love,” Steve says easily, his blue eyes grounding Tony amidst a sea of emotion. “I’ve got your back.”

Wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and squeezing tightly, Tony lingers for a moment before unwinding his grip, threading his fingers into Steve’s instead.

“Okay,” Tony echoes, and they leave, their bed unmade and the sun yet to rise.

Steve stays quiet the whole time, quirking his lips up whenever Tony peeks at him in concern every so often as they walk the dim streets, a firm body of strength and encouragement. He’s curious, and he wonders where in the world they could possibly be going dressed like this, but despite everything he knows that this is something precious to Tony, and that means it could never be something awful. So he holds Tony’s hand, and he walks the same streets, and he never once asks a question, knowing full well Tony would have done the same if it were him.

They’ve both got things in their past and present that are difficult to talk about, and sometimes you need someone to just stick with you through it anyways. Compared to the things they’ve faced before, being patient now is infinitely more easy.

“We’re here,” Tony says, shifting uneasily when Steve’s brow furrows in confusion.

“Tony?” Steve asks, just to be sure, and Tony laughs self-deprecatingly before tugging on his hand and leading him up the steps underneath the worn out sign declaring the building “Saint Mary’s Orphanage”.

“Just a minute, darling,” Tony promises, slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out a key to unlock the front door, only confusing Steve further. Why would Tony be going to an orphanage? And how does he have a key? The place certainly didn’t seem like it was under one of his charity foundations, but the familiarity in Tony’s step as he walks inside and locks the door behind them clearly suggests he comes here often.

Following him despite his struggle to understand their circumstances, Steve jumps when the shrill cry of a baby breaks through the quiet, missing a step and squinting in the dark to see where it’s coming from.

“Here,” Tony guides Steve through the shadows to what must be a hallway, opening a creaky door into a faintly lit room, the baby’s distressed shrieks clear as day.  

“Mr. Tony!” A small girl, probably still in the single digits, comes running, the wailing babe in her small arms.

“Hey, Juleka,” Tony whispers, a smile sweeping over his face as she sniffs wetly at him, brown eyes wet with tears. “Having trouble over there?”

“M-Miss Clara is sick, so she’s s-sleeping, but T-Tommy won’t stop crying,” she hiccups, throwing herself into Tony’s arms as he lets go of Steve’s hand to comfort her. “I can’t h-hold him long, and my a-arms hurt, Mr. Tony, and now L-Layla’s awake too-”

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Tony soothes, stroking her hair as Steve stares in befuddlement, trying to understand what’s going on. “You did so well, sweetheart, thank you.”

“Are you gonna h-hold the babies again?” Juleka asks him, her voice trembling.

“I sure am,” Tony answers, tapping at her nose gently and widening the circle of his arms. “Why don’t you give me Tommy over there and wash yourself up before heading to bed, huh?”

“O-Okay,” she sniffs, awkwardly placing the baby in his hands and rubbing at her tear-stained face. “Sh-should I tell Miss Clara you’re h-here?”

“It’s okay, sugar, you can just let her sleep,” Tony tells her, smoothing back her hair one more time and smiling gently. “I’ll hold down the fort here if any others wake up and start crying.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tony,” she warbles, turning to stare at Steve, who’s still standing in the doorway, feeling completely off-balance. “Is h-he gonna hold the babies too?”

“Maybe,” Tony replies, eyes flicking to Steve’s silhouette with a tiny frisson of anxiety. “But he’s mostly here to keep me company.”

“He’s your f-friend?” she asks curiously, her quick breaths slowing as she calms down.

“The best,” Tony agrees warmly while Steve feels his cells light themselves on fire, cheeks hot. “I love him more than anything.”

“Oh,” she breaths, eyes wide. “You love him a lot.”

“That’s right,” Tony says, Steve’s heart tumbling all over itself like it can send Tony morse code from inside his chest, all dotted “i love you’s” and dashed “you’re my everything’s”. “Go on to bed now, kiddo, we’re alright here.”

Nodding, she leans up to hug Tony and hesitates before quickly hugging Steve as well, running out the door with a hushed, “goodnight!”

“Come here buddy,” Tony murmurs to the babe in his arms as Steve tries to find his bearings, standing up from his crouch and laying Tommy’s small head against his chest. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

Stunned speechless, Steve can only watch as the baby’s wails quiet, his red face cooling down within an easy minute as Tony rocks him with soft coos. Watching the way Tony hums for him, his face open and so unbearably tender as he gently rocks him back and forth, Steve’s entire body thrums and aches with an overwhelming wash of warm gold devotion, his very breath leaving him to suffocate under this dizzying, dazzling love that nestles under his ribs and beats an incessant, cacophonous rhythm.

He doesn’t know how this came to be, or why Tony does it, but it’s becoming abundantly clear that Tony comes to this orphanage to hold babies; on nights he can’t sleep, when he’s worn and torn and feels broken by the world outside, this bright, beautiful man slips into the orphanage to hold babies. Whether it’s for them or for him is no question, because Steve knows Tony well enough to realize the answer is both, and it makes his hands shake with the urge to reach out and never let go.

 _My God_ , Steve thinks, his head spinning, _I love him_.

 _I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him_ , his mind sings, gloried yellow bells and sweet daisy whites blooming under his skin, _I love him I love him I love him._

“There we go, honey,” Tony’s cooing, beaming as little Tommy settles down and starts to nod off, his eyes shining in the light of the lamp in the corner, and Steve finds his breath again to step forward.

“Oh, hey,” Tony says, half-surprised, as if he’d forgotten for a moment that Steve came with him. “Sorry, he was having a rough night.”

“That’s okay,” Steve hears himself say from a distance, his eyes caught on the curve of Tony’s lips, the shape of his arms around the baby, how his hair curls slightly at the temples from his rolling around the bed earlier.

“I know it’s not...normal,” Tony tries, his bounces quickening with nerves, “but it-it helps me. Anywhere I go, when I can’t sleep, it just. It helps.”

“It’s okay,” Steve murmurs, swallowing back the river of endless affection that threatens to burst out of him, his fingers still twitching. “You don’t need to...explain it.”

Tony stares at him, eyes wide and liquid in the dark of the shadows, and his slow, sweet smile makes Steve’s heart vow to stop beating all at once.

“Thank you,” Tony whispers back like this is something Steve’s gifted him, when Steve has literally never felt so blessed or full of love in his entire life, and Steve holds back the hysterical laughter that bubbles in his throat. “Do you want to hold him? Layla's not much of a crier, so she’s already heading back to sleep now that he's quiet again.”

“I’d rather hold you, if that’s okay,” Steve’s breath hitches, and it takes all his god-given strength not to immediately press into Tony and wrap himself around that broad chest until there’s nothing left between them but their skin and bones; when Tony kisses the corner of his lips and says yes, he makes do with tucking his face into the warm curve of Tony’s neck from behind and sliding his arms around his waist, fingers slipping under his shirt to splay themselves across his stomach.

He has questions, and he wants to know what this means for them, but the truth of the matter is that he can’t be bothered to use any of his energy to speak the words aloud when Tony is right here in his arms, flushed with joy and humming softly, a baby dipping off to sleep in front of them.

Right now, he’s just happy, and he wants to take a minute to enjoy this. Besides, he doubts there’s much to ask after all this, when all he has to do is take one look at Tony’s face and know what his answer will be.

Maybe now today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not anytime soon-but one day.

 

-

 

“Tony?” Steve asks when they climb back into bed, arms looping around Tony’s chest and cheeks pressed against his head.

“Yes, beloved?” Tony yawns, turning partly so he can meet Steve’s eyes, blinking as sleep tugs on his eyes.

Smiling helplessly, Steve fondly brushes back a stray lock of hair from his temple and laces their hands together, pressing his lips to Tony’s in a gentle touch. “Would you ever want to be a dad one day?”

Mouth falling open, Tony gapes at him, sleep forgotten. “I-what?”

“Kids,” Steve rephrases, meeting his eyes fearlessly. “Do you want any?”

“I...of course,” Tony admits honestly, still startled by Steve’s sudden foray into a topic they’d never discussed before tonight despite what they’d just spent the whole night doing together. “But we’re Avengers, and even when we’re not, we’re still us. And you-you told me before, how you didn’t think kids could be for you anymore.”

“I didn’t,” Steve agrees, smile softening. “After all my luck with relationships and everything that happened, I didn’t think I could handle myself and give a child their best chance.”

“So…?” Tony asks, his lungs quivering, “what about now?”

“Now I have you,” Steve answers simply, his whisper a thousands stories of love in four words, “and I think there’s no other person in this world who could help me give them that like you, and there’s no other person I’d rather raise a child with. I know we’re still too busy right now, but I’d like to think someday...we can have a little one of our own.”

“You’d want to have a baby? Adopt?” Tony asks, barely able to breathe, and Steve comes in close, his lips a hot embrace that melts all the dark aches in his bones away.

“With you, yes,” Steve replies softly, and Tony thinks nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of being in love with Steve Rogers and being loved in return, so he lifts his hands to cup those fair cheeks and puts all that joy into a resplendent kiss, silver showers and gold sparks against luminous waves of endearment.

“I love you,” Tony tells him, choking back tears and smiling wider than humanly possible, laughing as Steve kisses him back and says, “I love you too.”

 _Yeah_ , Steve thinks, _we’re gonna be just fine_.

 

-

 

“Tony, are you making armor for our daughter?”

“Are you asking me if I’m spending millions of dollars to make an advanced suit of armor for a baby, my love, because that would be absolutely ridicu-yeah, I’m making her an armor, but Steve! Come on! We’re both Avengers, we have enemies, and I know we agreed on the security precautions already but I really think an armor would be a good idea just in case! I’m a futurist, I like to have plans, ergo: I’m making our child a suit of armor in case the world tries to end again or somebody tries to murder us all next Thursday. It doesn’t hurt to have plans past A-Z!”

“...I never said it was a bad idea.”

“Steve, honey, sweetheart, you are so impossibly amazing and I love you, please come kiss me immediately so we can get on to making a suit of armor for our baby.”

“You’re something else, Shellhead.”

“You love me for it, handsome, don’t lie.”

“And why would I do that? Move over, sweetheart, I want to see what you’ve been up to while I was busy making the mobile.”

“Right, so I took a simple suit design from a couple years ago and made it….” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i took most of your prompts and smashed them all together in one fic, so i hope it wasn't too far off from what you wanted sjdfljslfjsg ;;;v;;; to be quite honest, i was EXTREMELY nervous about being your gifter because i don't have much confidence in comic writing and because i a d o r e your work, but i absolutely love writing happy domesticity and kid fics, so this was amazing to write!!!! thank you for your wonderful prompts, and i hope you have a happy holiday!!!!! 💖💖


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